


Serves You Right

by zjemciciastko



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 13:03:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjemciciastko/pseuds/zjemciciastko
Summary: "I’m your waiter and I think you’re on a date but your shirt is on inside out and you’re super cute should I tell you about it"AUThree hours into Marc's shift, the man of his dreams walks in through the door.





	Serves You Right

It’s a slow day, not much people coming in. Marc’s mostly hanging around in the kitchen, occasionally serving someone a quick lunch rather than a three-course meal. He doesn’t have much more to do. Jorge’s his usual grumpy self, and Marc thinks that Maverick doesn’t like him all that much, so he’s been bored most of the day. If not for the fact that it would get him fired, he’d gladly just go home. 

Three hours into his shift, the man of his dreams walks in through the door. 

Marc is wiping one of the tables, for the third time in the past forty minutes, when he sees _him._ The rag falls from his hand, ending on the floor, and Marc picks it up hastily, so he doesn’t lose more than a second of the _view._ Tall, definitely some years older than Marc himself and looking so effortlessly gorgeous, the man makes Marc’s heart race. 

He doesn’t even have to see the guy up close to _know_. It’s just the feeling that’s there, a split-second that was enough for him to decide that yes, that’s the one he wants. 

Glancing around, Marc tries to decide what to do next. Maverick’s busy tending to the table on the far left, and all the other guests were taken care of, so Marc jumps at the first chance, approaching the guy immediately.

“Welcome,” he greets the man, trying to control his grin, “Can I show you a table?”

He does feel a little underdressed in his casual shirt, slightly crumpled at the edges. But at least it’s clean. At least he thinks it is. He takes another look at it, to be sure. Seems fine. The man’s shirt though, Marc doesn’t know what fabric it’s made from, but it looks like something worth all of his wage, from the whole month. 

“Sure, lead the way,” the guy says, hints of Italian in his voice. Marc almost swoons at that accent, strong and distinct, but somehow so pleasing. “A table for two, please.”

In that exact moment, Marc’s face falls. Just his luck that the guy’s here on a date. “Follow me.”

He manoeuvres between the chairs and tables, purposefully going over to the one he’ll have a good view at. The guy may be taken, but if Marc can get a look at him, he’ll take it. There’s this one table he can see perfectly from pretty much everywhere, so he chooses that one, peering at the guy over his shoulder every two steps he takes. 

When they come to a stop, Marc can’t resist pulling the chair out for the guy, and, as it turns out, he can’t resist the smile he gets in return, either. 

There is one thing that catches his attention, though.

Marc lingers next to the table for another thirty seconds or so, debating whether he should say anything. “Excuse me,” he asks in the end, getting the guy to look at him. “Your shirt, uhm, it’s inside out.” 

The man’s eyes shift from Marc’s face to the aforementioned shirt. “Fuck.” He frowns; Marc has never thought he’d find someone cursing endearing, but apparently it’s a thing now. “Where’s the bathroom?”

It takes a lot of Marc’s self-control not to offer his help with that shirt, but he settles for pointing in the right direction. “Over there.”

“Thanks.” 

It gets Marc a smile and a pat on the shoulder, the touch brief but somehow his skin tingles even after it’s gone. He observes how the guy disappears behind the door, frozen to the spot, and he’s more than certain that his bottom lip bears the marks of his teeth. 

He takes the pen out of his pocket, clicking it once and again. He _is_ disappointed. It’s not often that Marc finds someone he’s attracted to, and the guy is all that he likes, tall with blue eyes, and that Italian accent he can still hear ringing in his ears. But of course the guy had to be taken, because Marc can’t have nice things for once. 

He opens the menu, then closes it, fidgeting. He sighs, hoping that Jorge doesn’t suddenly think it would be a good idea to check on how he’s doing. Now, that would be very unwelcome. The last thing Marc wants to do is to get on Jorge’s bad side, landing himself in trouble, because while the job might not be his dream career, it fulfils its purpose – he gets the money, after all. 

Thankfully, this doesn’t happen, and soon, Marc is no longer standing alone awkwardly by the table. Three minutes later, the guy comes back. “You waited for me?”

Now that he has the shirt properly on, it looks even better. He’s a little skinny, and Marc considers giving him a dessert on the house, even if it would mean a smaller wage. It would be worth it. But all in all, it doesn’t make the guy any less attractive, Marc’s eyes stopping on his face for longer than what is probably considered appropriate. 

“Well, I am a _waiter.”_ Marc can’t resist that awful pun. He gives the guy the menu, almost wishing for their fingers to brush. “What can I get you?” 

The guy laughs, and okay, his laugh is pretty great, too. Marc falls even deeper into what must be the fastest crush he’s ever acquired, the sound slipping into his ears easily. 

“Just an espresso, for now.” The menu lands back on the table, unopened. “I’ll order more later.”

_When your date arrives, you mean?_

“Sure,” Marc says, turning to tell the kitchen what they have to prepare. He lurks there until the coffee is ready, humming along to the song they currently have playing and ignoring Jorge’s disapproving stares. 

It’s only when the drink is made that he finally moves from his spot, grabbing the tray cautiously not to spill anything. No less carefully, he makes his way out of the kitchen to where the guests are sat, checking if his shoelaces aren’t undone three times. He makes it safely out through the door, at least one good thing today, but then he freezes when his sight lands on the table he’s supposed to be serving at the moment. 

While Marc was away, the guy’s date must’ve arrived, as now the guy of his dreams is no longer sitting but rather standing, arms wrapped tightly around the waist of another man. 

A young, gorgeous boyfriend. Of course. Marc should’ve expected that. 

Fuck his luck. 

*

The rest of his shift passes excruciatingly slowly, the seconds feeling like minutes and the minutes feeling like hours. It’s pure relief Marc feels when he shuts the door behind himself after getting home, throwing the backpack without caring where and unlacing his sneakers. 

His parents should be out now, but he can hear Alex doing something upstairs, so Marc goes over there, almost bursting to tell Alex how his day has been. The floor creaks when he enters the room, leaning on the doorframe until Alex acknowledges his presence. 

He guesses Alex must’ve noticed something, as he throws Marc a look. “What’s up? Something happened?” 

For a few seconds, Marc is silent. He juts his lower lip out, trying to phrase what he wants to say as best as he can. He gives up quickly, letting his fatigue and frustration at the outcome of the day come to the surface. 

“I met the man of my dreams today.”

Alex’s curiosity is peaked as he looks up from the laptop. “That’s good then? You have his number?”

“No, nothing is good.” Marc throws himself on the bed, laying his head on the pillow. He knows he’s acting childishly, Alex’s judgemental stare tells him as much, but his little brother should learn some empathy when Marc’s heart just got broken only a few hours earlier. “He was on a _date._ With his very young, stupidly tall boyfriend, with those ridiculously blue eyes.” 

“You mean he was with someone who looks nothing like you.” 

Alex hits the sour spot perfectly. 

Marc huffs. “Not what I meant.” He throws the pillow at Alex, who manages to duck easily. “It doesn’t matter, either way. I’m not going to make a move on Vale if he has a boyfriend.”

Even though it’s tempting, Marc has some rules. And not butting in where they don’t want him is one of them; he certainly doesn’t plan on stealing anyone’s boyfriend, not even when it comes to someone who could possibly be his ideal man. That accent though, it makes Marc feel _things._

Alex gets up from the chair, now sitting next to Marc. “Vale? He told you his name?”

“It’s Valentino,” Marc corrects automatically. “He paid with a credit card, I checked his name.” 

There’s more than a hint of sarcasm in Alex’s reply. “That’s not creepy at all.”

“Shush it. Everyone does it.” Marc scolds him. He feels like it was totally justified, as he didn’t do anything illegal or immoral, so Alex can shut up. “Jorge totally made me check Dani’s card so he could get his name, I’m not alone in this.” 

“Are you sure it was his boyfriend? They kissed?” More questions follow, Alex trying to get a better glimpse of the situation.

Not exactly, but Marc thinks that what he saw was quite enough. “No, but they hugged. And it looked a bit too tight to be just friends,” he recalls, the scene bright and vivid in his mind. 

They definitely seemed to be too close for just friends, that embrace wasn’t anything he’d call friendly. 

“Hugging proves nothing.”

Marc reaches out to grab that pillow he threw at Alex earlier, but it’s too far. His fingers graze one of the edges, but that’s it, and sure, he could just get up to pick it, but his mood is too bad to move more than an inch. “Don’t try to give me false hope, I’m begging you.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but he gives the pillow to Marc either way. “Okay, wallow in your self-pity if you want, instead. Your choice.” 

“I can’t go for a taken guy,” Marc whines, kicking the blanket out of frustration. He’s sworn not to fall for a taken guy ever again after than fiasco with Jordi, but here he is again, with another crush, and on a man he saw once, no less. 

His pout must be rather effective, as Alex pulls him in a hug. “You’ll get over him,” Alex mutters. Marc isn’t so sure, it probably won’t happen so soon, but it’s nice being comforted like that, so he hugs Alex back, even though his mood is no less sour. 

*

During the next few days, there’s no sight of Valentino.

Marc sees him again on next Friday, around the same hour as that last time, and just like then, he comes alone. Marc tries not to get his hopes up, but it happens against his will, and he can hardly contain his joy when he sees Valentino waving at him.

Serving lunch to that old couple in the far corner takes a record time, and Marc can feel Maverick’s disapproving stare on himself, but he doesn’t care. It’s a matter of seconds before he’s next to Valentino, leading him to that same table as last week. 

Propping a hip against the table, Marc leans so that he can get a better look at Valentino. “What can I get you?”

“Surprise me?” Valentino says, putting the menu aside. “I feel adventurous today, give me your fave.”

_Rather you just surprised me._

Marc goes over the menu in his head. There are some things he particularly likes, those Jorge refuses to make for him unless it’s a special occasion, so maybe one of those would be good. He goes to the kitchen with one of those in mind, and he has to explain to Jorge three times that no, even though this is his fave, it’s not for him. 

Jorge still gives him a suspicious look, but he prepares the dish nonetheless. 

The tray is a bit shaky in Marc’s hands as he walks from the kitchen to the table where Valentino’s sat. Marc knows he has no chance with the guy, but still, he wants Valentino to like what he chose. The smell of the freshly made paella is delicious, to the point that Marc hears his own stomach grumbling. He really hopes his choice was good. 

Carefully, he puts the plate in front of Valentino, immediately checking the reaction. Valentino takes the cutlery, and Marc might hold his breath the whole time it takes Valentino to take a bite and taste the food. 

“How is it?” Marc can’t stand this tension any longer, he has to ask. “Tastes good?”

“Maybe you should check it yourself. You seem hungry, too.” Valentino grins at him, licking the fork at the same time, “Want a bite?”

 _Of you,_ is what Marc is thinking, his eyes following the move Valentino’s tongue just made, then the way his lips spread on his face. He settles for a short laugh, relieved it doesn’t startle Valentino like it does to some people, and hopes it doesn’t show just how affected he is. 

“No thanks, jaja,” his laugh is nothing but nervous, “For me, it’s always good. Jorge, our chef, knows what he’s doing.”

Valentino takes another bite. “You have good taste,” he says, looking Marc up and down, pausing for a bit longer on his face.

Marc isn’t sure if they’re still talking about food.

“Can I get your name?” Valentino asks suddenly, after he’s put the cutlery aside. “So I know who to ask for when I come here next time. You provide top service.” 

Valentino smiles, blinking slowly, and Marc is sure he could count each of Valentino’s long lashes. 

“It’s Marc,” he introduces himself.

“I’m Vale.” The guy extends a hand for Marc to shake. It’s a bit calloused and slightly cold, and Marc almost catches it between his own palms to share a bit of his warmth, but the moment is broken when a tall silhouette appears in the door, Valentino’s boyfriend coming in. 

Marc’s smile is tight-lipped when he serves the boyfriend his order, lying that he has something to do when Valentino tries to continue their earlier conversation. 

*

Without him realising when, it’s become a some sort of routine for Marc – Valentino coming in, alone, Marc’s heart speeding up, only for the disappointment to fill him when he sees the boyfriend following soon after. And, contrary to Alex’s words, he hasn’t got over Valentino yet. It seems unlikely to happen soon, too. 

“How’s my favourite waiter today?”

Marc doesn’t get to say a word before Valentino greets him first, almost beaming. It evokes a tiny somersault in Marc’s stomach, because no matter how he much tries, he can’t just stay indifferent to Valentino’s charm. Not to mention that Marc could swear there was something _flirty_ in the way those words were pronounced, something sultry. Or maybe he’s just going crazy, his own attraction making his see and hear things that aren’t there. 

“Not many guests today. I’ve been pretty bored.” Marc smiles, a bit more bashful than usual. “How are you?”

The movement, Valentino’s eyebrows rising, is very brief but definitely noticeable. “Good, then I’ll keep you company,” he says, clasping an hand on Marc’s shoulder. “Luca will be a bit late, so we have more time for ourselves.” 

_You can’t say things like that, you have a boyfriend for fuck’s sake._

Marc isn’t sure if Valentino is so oblivious to the things he says or whether it’s something else. Like always, he walks over to that table he dubbed Valentino’s, his cheeks slightly flushed, confusion bigger and bigger. There’s a thought he has, that maybe he should tell Valentino’s boyfriend about what’s going on. Then again, Marc can’t tell for sure that it is flirting, or maybe he’s just misinterpreting the signals. He leaves it for now, ready to offer Valentino the menu, when he gets stopped.

“I don’t want any of this.” Valentino nods towards the menu Marc’s still holding in his hand. “Give me another one of your faves. I’ve been coming here so often, I hope I’m not just any other guest for you?”

“Another fave. Sure.” _I could give you anything you wanted when you look at me like this._ “A dinner or a dessert?” 

_Maybe a kiss from me,_ Marc is tempted to say.

Valentino’s face is in his hand, an elbow on the table, and the tilt of his head makes light catch in his eyes, the gleam what Marc can only describe as mischievous. “Whatever you want for me.”

Marc puts his best cheerful face on. “Okay, I’ll order something for you,” he says, his fingers gripping the menu tighter. He gulps, hopefully discreetly, as he goes to the kitchen to tell Jorge what to prepare, internally freaking out. 

*

Marc covers the way home in a record time, and he prays that he doesn’t get a ticket for speeding, his life already problematic as it is now. He runs up the stairs, still in the jacket, only having kicked off the boots off, as he knows his mother would have his head for getting the dirt all over the floor. He finds Alex in their shared room, bent over the laptop and looking at some bike. 

Alex sighs. “What now?” 

The door falls shut behind Marc, forcing him to cringe at the too loud sound, as he stands in the middle of the room for a moment, trying to judge Alex’s expression. 

“I saw him again today,” Marc says, falling on the chair heavily. “Like always, he was with his stupidly tall boyfriend, the one with those ridiculously blue eyes.” 

“From what you told me before,” Alex points out, “The guy you have a crush on is also stupidly tall with ridiculously blue eyes.”

Marc pouts. “It’s not the same.” 

He thought at least Alex would be on his side. It’s not like Marc can help it, that crush just refuses to leave. Whenever he tries to not think about Vale, the guy appears again and all of Marc’s efforts go to dust, leaving him longing for Valentino against his will. 

“Did he do something today?” There’s some exasperation in Alex’s voice as he pokes Marc in the shoulder. “He didn’t profess his undying love for you, I guess?”

Marc gives him a look.

“He’s still flirting with me,” he moans, all of Valentino’s gestures and words vivid in his memory. And the worst thing is, Marc enjoys it. A lot. He’d gladly return all of that flirting, but he can’t. God, if only Valentino stopped it, maybe Marc would get over him quicker. When it’s like it’s this, there’s no chance. 

Alex tilts his head to the side. If Marc didn’t know better, he’d probably fall for the innocent act. “I thought you would be happy about that? Means he’s into you.”

“He has a boyfriend!” Marc throws his hands in the air. Doesn’t Alex get it? “He shouldn’t be flirting with me. Worst of all, he’s flirting with me when his boyfriend is there.”

Luca doesn’t even bat an eyelash whenever Valentino makes another of his comments, and that’s what throws Marc off the most. He cannot comprehend it in any way, why someone would be okay with their partner flirting right in front of them with someone else. Marc doesn’t understand at all. 

Alex shuts the lid of his laptop with more strength than perhaps was necessary, that bike he was eyeing up forgotten. 

“I’ve told you this before,” he says wearily. “You don’t even know if that’s his boyfriend.” 

Marc tugs the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands. He may not know for sure, but he is a hundred percent _convinced_ that’s the case. 

*

It’s rare for Alex to come over when Marc’s working his shift, mainly due to Jorge’s grumbling, but today is Jorge’s day off, so Marc sneaks his brother in without problem. It’s the middle of the week, so he doesn’t expect much happening, and it should be all fine. 

Another thing he doesn’t expect, is Valentino appearing today.

Alex is sipping on his water and telling him about the last assignment one of his professor made him do when Marc notices the door opening. He grabs the menus quickly, ready to greet another of the guests, when he sees Valentino coming in. 

Instinctively, he glances back and forth, from Valentino to Alex. _What to do now, what to do?_ Maybe Maverick can take care of Vale and his boyfriend in Marc’s stead, because Marc isn’t sure if he can deal with it any longer. He’s set on forgetting about Valentino, he changed his shifts purposefully to make it possible, and now he gets this? 

After a brief moment of panic he’d never admit to having, Marc takes a deep breath. “Alex,” he hisses, grabbing his brother’s arm tightly, “It’s _him.”_

Alex jerks, looking at the door. “Your man?”

Marc nods, eyes suddenly wide. He quickly cuts their conversation, almost running to greet Valentino, hitting his hip on one of the tables he walks by. A guest cannot be ignored, that’s the only thing that prevents him from hiding in the kitchen, as Maverick is currently busy with that group of students and doesn’t seem likely to be done soon. 

Like usual, Valentino tries to talk to him, and maybe Marc would appreciate it more, _if only the guy hadn’t been taken._ However, they only manage to exchange casual _hi, hellos_ when Marc sees Luca following, approaching them, and he is painfully remained of the situation they’re in. 

He takes their orders, Luca’s pasta and Valentino’s _give me whatever you like,_ and the moment he is close enough to hear Alex speak quietly is the moment Marc almost trips over his own feet. 

“Do you know who your man’s _boyfriend,”_ Alex makes the quotation marks sign with his fingers, “Is?” 

Marc shakes his head, not understanding what Alex’s getting at.

“That’s Luca Marini. We share some classes at uni, he’s a nice guy. And,” Alex pauses for a more dramatic effect, “I’m pretty sure that the man of your dreams is Luca’s brother. He mentions the guy sometimes. Or else, Luca’s girlfriend won’t be too happy, I imagine.”

Marc gapes. He takes in what Alex’s telling him, the gears turning in his head as he processes the information, Luca has a girlfriend, suddenly feeling slightly weak. Eventually, he comes to a conclusion. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re an idiot,” Alex confirms. 

“What do I do now?” Marc moans. “Do I just walk up to him and say, hey, you’re hot, let’s have steamy sex in the bathroom?”

He cannot just do that, can he?

Alex grimaces. “Maybe leave the sex part for later?” he says, not able to shake that vision off. “Go talk to them. Make sure that they’re brothers, I’m pretty sure that’s the case, but you should still ask them.” 

“Okay, good plan.” Marc is glad that at least Alex can think of something, because he himself is currently pretty useless. He peeks from behind the wall, the table he assigned to Vale and Luca perfectly visible, like always, and gathers himself up. He still can’t believe his own stupidity. “Let’s go.” 

His legs are like jelly when he appears by their table, without any plausible excuse. They wait patiently before he’s finally capable of voicing his thoughts, and Marc’s glad, because he sure doesn’t know how to approach the topic in the best way. 

“This might be a weird question,” Marc hesitates, but he’s already made the decision, so he goes with it. “Are you brothers?” 

As a response, he gets a nod from both of them and then an additional question from Valentino. “Why are you asking now?”

Marc squirms. Now that he has a confirmation of what Alex told him, he can’t help but feel the embarrassment at his own assumptions. “I thought you were coming here on dates, but I also thought you were flirting with me, so,” Marc explains, waving his arms helplessly.

“I _was_ flirting with you,” Valentino says, deadpan, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It probably was. “Luca noticed how you were staring at us all the time. At first, I thought you were staring at him, but then I noticed that wasn’t the case.” 

“You thought I was dating him?” Luca butts in in their conversation. “Gross.” 

If Marc had to describe what disgust looked like, he’d have taken a photo of Luca’s face and only slapped a label below it. Lips pulled tightly, squinted eyes. Marc is sure Luca could start shaking any given moment. 

It gets a reaction out of Valentino, too. “What do you mean gross? I’m not gross!”

They begin bickering, one talking over the other, and Marc can’t really tell if they’re being serious or if it’s joking, but he’s standing awkwardly next to them, not sure what to do with himself. 

So he does the first thing that comes to his mind, and leans towards Valentino.

Marc’s vaguely aware of the fact that he’s currently kissing one of the guests in the restaurant, in the middle of it, in the middle of the day. He probably should care about that fact, he thinks, but when Valentino’s lips begin moving against his, he disregards that thought immediately. Valentino’s hand pushes on the nape of his neck gently, so Marc lets himself be pulled down to make it more comfortable to both of them. 

He’s ready to sit on Valentino’s lap, his arms already travelling to wrap themselves around Valentino, but Luca’s voice stops him mid-movement.

“Can you not?” Luca moans, looking though his fingers. “Marc, you’re a nice guy, buy I don’t want to see my brother with his tongue down your throat. Can’t you move it somewhere private?”

Marc has the decency to blush, at least. “Ugh, sorry. Just, heat of the moment, jaja,” he says, finally ungluing himself from Valentino. He then checks his watch, disappointed with what he sees. “My shift ends in two hours.”

“Well, you still haven’t served me a dessert,” Valentino mentions, fully composed, and only the colour of his lips, a deeper shade than it was a few minutes ago, betrays that the kiss actually happened, that Marc hasn’t imagined it all. “I’ll stay here.” 

Luca’s look of horror is a very well made act. “Do what you want, I don’t want to see it.” 

He leaves, his pasta not fully eaten, and Marc wants to apologize for any inconvenience he might’ve caused, almost feeling bad, but if inconvenience tastes as good as Valentino’s lips do, he has no regrets. 

Later, when Marc’s shift has ended and he’s already changed into regular, not work clothes, he appears by Valentino’s side, ready to go wherever Valentino wants to. They haven’t decided yet where, but Marc is fine with anything, really. 

Valentino gets up from his seat, visibly amused. “You really thought I was dating Luca?”

Marc blushes. “Well, you’ve been coming here together and the hugs looked more than friendly, so I assumed…” he trails off, feeling incredibly stupid.

Valentino looks thoughtful. “I was flirting with you all the time, but you weren’t responding, so I thought maybe you weren’t interested,” he says. “I mean, you looked interested at first. But then you didn’t do anything, so I was confused.” 

“I messed up, didn’t I?” 

They could’ve spared some time if only Marc listened to Alex, instead of jumping to conclusions. 

“Not really, we can still make it work.” Valentino shrugs. A moment later, he catches Marc’s hand in his own. “So, how about that dessert? You forgot to give it to me, but we can have one together.”

Marc knows that what he’s about to say will be cringey. He grins and does it either way. “How about me for dessert?” 

Valentino laughs. Marc does feel a little proud at getting that reaction out of him, the sound of it as nice as the first time he heard it. He squeezes Valentino’s hand tighter as they walk out of the restaurant and he looks up, the smiles never leaving his lips. 

Valentino steals another kiss from him. “Both for dessert and for breakfast, if you’re up for it?” 

Marc doesn’t miss the implication. He quickly nods in agreement, letting Valentino to lead the way, meanwhile he texts Alex so that his little brother doesn’t wait for him. He gives Valentino a kiss on the cheek as a response to Vale’s inquiring expression, and then, he grins when he gets a real one in return. 

Breakfast is something he hasn’t recommended to Valentino yet, but he’s certainly eager to do so.

**Author's Note:**

> End of season Rosquez fic! I planned to write something else, but they made up earlier than I expected, so this is what you get instead haha. I hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> 4693words.tumblr.com


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